


How did I get here?

by magicalcookie664



Series: Vent stuff or something [5]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Needs a Hug, Blood, Cutting, I forgot Logan was in the scene so I made him a sleepy boi, Intrusive Thoughts, Self Harm, self hate, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:22:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25850515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalcookie664/pseuds/magicalcookie664
Summary: Oh, he is so disappointed.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Everyone
Series: Vent stuff or something [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1773316
Comments: 13
Kudos: 52





	How did I get here?

**Author's Note:**

> TW: THE TAGS. 
> 
> I'm just gonna-
> 
> Yup.  
> I hate this.

Virgil doesn't know how he got here. He's curled up on the floor in the corner of the bathroom, his back pressing against the cold side of the bath. His purple hoodie sleeves are drawn back, exposing forearms covered in red lines all dripping blood. The red is all over him, staining his dark clothes, getting under his fingernails, dotting the otherwise pristine white tiles beneath him. A blade shining crimson sits beside him on the cold floor. 

Oh, he is so disappointed. He'd thought he was done with this, really, this harmful 'habit' of his. He frowns, bringing his left hand into view. It's covered in blood. He sighs quietly, absentmindedly wiping the red over the untouched skin of his upper right arm. He smears the colour over his scarred wrists, watching as his arms slowly turn from pale to crimson. It's already beginning to dry. 

God, what is he doing? He slips his head into his hands, a pained sound escaping him. He has no idea what he's doing, yet he can't bring himself to stop, cannot physically prevent his nails from digging into the stained skin of his arms. Tears blur his vision. No. He doesn't want to cry. The tears come anyway, pouring down his cheeks, streaking them with grey and black. 

What has he done? He lets out a sob, curling further into himself. He doesn't even know what set him off this time. It was probably something stupid and insignificant. He's always been so pathetic, hasn't he? Why, any tiny thing can set him off, send him reeling into a spiral of self loathing. Another sob chokes itself out of him and he feels his body shake with the force of it. 

It'll be morning soon. He needs to get up, clean everything and disappear back to his room. He doesn't want the others being suspicious, doesn't need their pity, their overrated concern for him. He doesn't need help. He's fine. Everything is completely fine. He knows, he knows, he's overreacting. He's always overreacting. It's not like he woke up one day and decided to, he's always done it, always hit the hardest by everything without any known reason. 

It makes him hate himself, hate his brain, his way of thinking, his stupid stupid emotions that just can't remain in check. So he hates himself, everything he says, everything he does, every single part of him from head to toe. And he hates himself for hating himself. Hates himself for feeling the way he does for no fucking reason. Sometimes the hate is so strong he doesn't know what to do with himself, can't fucking deal with being himself for one more damn moment. 

He presses his face into his knees and cries, sobs, trembles as blood drips onto the tiles below him. He wants to claw the skin off of his body. He wants to tear himself to pieces, rip out every disgusting thing inside of him. Only, that's all of him, every shred of skin and bone on his body is marred, poisoned, stained with his pathetic, repulsive existence. He doesn't want to be this thing anymore, this thing he calls himself, this thing that talks with his voice, smiles with his mouth, sees with his eyes. He doesn't want to be Virgil anymore. He doesn't particularly care who he becomes, he just can't bear waking up tomorrow and still being himself, still going through the motions of his own day, his own life with his scarred body and fucked up thoughts. Even the thought of it makes him want to scream as loud as he can then rip his throat to shreds until he can no longer speak a word. 

It's probably another hour before he brings himself to move, to clean up his mess with trembling hands. He leaves the bathroom and heads to his own bedroom. His arms sting terribly and they're still bleeding a little bit he can't bring himself to care. He curls up under the mess of blankets, drawing his hood over his head. He stares ahead of him into nothing until his eyes slowly close and he succumbs to sleep. 

-

He wakes up the next morning to the sounds of Patton calling everyone to breakfast. He groans, rubbing his eyes tiredly and moving into a sitting position on his bed. He's tired. For a moment he's unsure why, then he remembers last night. 

He slides out of bed, checking his cuts are covered by his hoodie before venturing into the hallway outside. He squints immediately, not prepared for the bright light that assaults his eyes. He makes his way into the kitchen, keeping his head down and avoiding everyone as he makes a beeline for the coffee machine. 

"Morning kiddo!" Patton exclaims, waving over at him from where he stands next to where Roman and Logan are sitting, having just finished handing them their breakfast. 

"Morning.." Virgil mumbles, decidedly less enthusiastic. He takes his coffee and sits up on the counter to sip at it, already feeling the beginnings of a headache start to surface in his skull. 

Roman and Patton begin talking. Logan remains silent also, like Virgil, having his own coffee to drink. 

Virgil makes no effort to join in with the conversation, just finishes his coffee as quickly as possible before jumping down from his place on the counter. He places the empty mug by the sink and makes a move to leave. 

"Virgeee, wanna watch a movie?" Roman asks, shooting him a grin. 

Virgil shrugs, not really sure whether he wants to or not. 

"Come on, it'll be fun," Roman persists, finishing his breakfast before moving to stand up. 

"Dunno," Virgil mumbles, fidgeting with his sleeve nervously. He really really wants to return to his room and watch some YouTube or something. 

Roman rolls his eyes. "Stop moping about," he says,"Come on," and he grabs Virgil's arm, clearly meaning to drag him into the living room to watch a movie. However, he's not prepared for the gasp Virgil makes and the force with which the anxious side tears his arm from Roman's grasp. 

Virgils eyes grow wide and he takes a few steps back, mouth open as if he's going to say something, but no words come out. 

Roman stares at him, concerned. "Is your arm okay..?" He questions, stepping forward,"Did you hurt it somehow?" 

Virgil shakes his head rapidly. 

Patton looks over at this, also appearing concerned. "What's wrong, V?" He asks, moving to join Roman. 

"Nothing," Virgil snaps, moving to turn away. 

Roman grabs his other arm tightly, too tight for him to pull away. "Virgil, let me look at your arm. Did one of the dark sides hurt you?" He demands. 

"Let go of me!" Virgil cries, struggling against Roman's grip. 

"Virgil, please," Patton begs,"We just wanna make sure you're okay,"

Virgil stops resisting and turns to face the two of them. "You don't need to look at it. It's fine," he manages, blinking back the tears forming in his eyes. 

Roman lets go of his arm. "Virgil, show me your arm," he demands. 

"I don't want to," Virgil sobs, quickly wiping the tears away with his fingers. More escape as soon as he does so. 

Patton glances at Roman, clearly confused. "Did someone hurt you, kiddo?" He asks, his attention retuning to Virgil. 

Virgil nods, covering his face with his hands. 

"Tell me who hurt you and I'll go beat them to a pulp!" Roman exclaims, bearing his fists in anger. 

This only makes Virgil cry more. 

Roman frowns, not sure what to do. 

"Virgil, kiddo, please tell us who hurt you," Patton begs, tears filling his own eyes. 

"I did," Virgil manages, finally tearing his own sleeve down in one quick movement. May as well get it over and done with now. He doesn't want Roman going after one of the other sides when really it was him all along. 

Roman's eyes grow very wide and Patton freezes, expression confused. "Y- what do you mean, Virge?" He asks. 

Virgil sighs. "I mean what I said," he snaps,"I did this to myself," he explains," gesturing to the cuts covering his arms,"There. Happy now?" 

Patton starts to cry, quickly wrapping his arms around Virgil. 

Said anxious side is a little surprised at the speed in which Patton launches himself at him, but gives in to the hug, allowing tears of his own to spill down his cheeks. 

"Logan, wake up," he hears Roman say and a tiny laugh escapes him. Was Logan really asleep this whole time? 

A few minutes pass and Patton refuses to let go of Virgil. He just keeps his arms wrapped tightly around the other side in a possessive manner. 

"P-Patton, you can let me go now.." he mumbles awkwardly. 

Patton does, stepping back quickly. "Sorry, kiddo." He apologies. 

"It's okay.." Virgil responds quietly. He doesn't know what to do, knowing both Roman and Patton know now. 

Patton wipes his eyes quickly and moves to enter the kitchen. "I'm gonna make some hoy chocolate. Then we'll talk, okay?" He says. 

"Okay.." Virgil replies.

**Author's Note:**

> See, I didn't even give it a proper ending. I just gave up.


End file.
